Bleeding Out
by thenotsofabulouskilljoy
Summary: Wars are unfair but sometimes to some more than others.. GerIta one-shot, majour character death, blood, guns.


Gunshots ring over the clearing and the scent of gunpowder is heavy in the air. Feliciano wrinkles his nose as he marches along the barren wasteland as quickly as he can, wedged in the middle of Ludwig, the strongest soldier in their team, and Kiku, an amazing medic that'd saved countless lives on the lines. He fixes his helmet with a determined look.

Enemy forces have been steadily pushed back from the border the past week but there was still masses of men firing at theirs. With any hope it'd be possible to eradicate the threats and successfully push them back to their territory; then, it'd only be a matter of time before their land was invaded and destroyed.

Feliciano's footing slips in the mud and he yelps before a strong hand pulls him back up before he can fall completely. Despite being relatively healthy, his stamina lacked and made it hard for him to do much of anything for prolonged periods.

A bullet shoots past his ear and the man behinds him falls, casting a look of horror on his face. Kiku turns with a grimace and swallows before carrying on, the three keeping pace together.

"Headshot. It was lucky, probably meant for you Feliciano. Stay on guard." Being in battle most definitely has its downfalls, constant death being one of them. Panic builds in his chest as they dive into the ditches and pant in the mud. The Italian grips his weapon tightly before popping up and firing a few random rounds.

"Don't fire carelessly!" Ludwig reprimands him whilst firing a few calculated shots of his own. "Bullets are almost out of stock."

He nods in return when a whistle blows, their charging symbol. The trio clambers from the mud and darts across the open plain, soldiers following or leading around them.

A bullet whizzes past followed by a few more when a strange pain strikes Feliciano in his chest, the force of an unknown something knocking him back. His friends notice a moment later and slip on the mud in their return trip.

"Feli!" The blond kneels down, watching the crimson stain the elder's jacket. "O-oh God.. Oh my God. Kiku!" He presses his hand down onto the fresh wound, unable to stop his voice from wavering whenever he speaks.

"V-ve, wh-what happened?" He groans, smacking at the German's hands and glancing up at the medic as he kneels by his head.

"Stay calm, Feliciano. You've been shot, it's okay." A lump forms in the auburn haired man's throat and the pain hits him full force, his entire torso aching from the lacerations. He releases a scream and wrenches in the mud in a poor attempt to squirm away.

"Stay still! We need to treat this." Kiku opens the small compartment on his belt to withdraw gauze and antiseptic. "Ludwig, was it clean through him or is the bullet still in his chest?"

The blond stammers, feels queasy as he lifts him up to glance at his bloody back. "Cl-clean through." The stench hits his nose and he turns away to gag helplessly.

"Good." He pulls the Italian's head into his lap and tosses a rag at Ludwig before going about cutting open the uniform. He'd lose blood quickly and at this rate it may prove fatal.

The man struggles under them, trying to push off the German and squirms once more before falling back with a pained cry. "M-my chest hurts—.." He whines, trying to look down at the bullet wound as he breaks out in a cold sweat.

"It's okay. I know you're scared, Feliciano. Ju-just keep your eyes on Kiku." His bloodied hands press harder onto the rag and his eyes water terribly. What if he died? Feliciano was the first friend he'd ever truly had in his life, and then he introduced him to Kiku. But what about their bond? If he died would his life still hold meaning? Would he be able to smile again like he did so freely with the Italian?

His thoughts are cut off as the soldier speaks up to him. "Maybe.. Y-you need to look at Kiku. You're the one shaking." Blood seeps through the rag and he grabs another from then Japanese man in front of him.

"Don't die, Feli. Please. We need you here." He watches his pale face, a lump forming his his throat as the other lapses into his native tongue, an incomprehensible jumble of words to his ears. The natural glow to his eyes fades slightly and he grips his shoulders. "Don't you dare die on me!"

A lump forms in the Italian's throat and he shudders as the air around him drops to a deep chill. "Io non ti lascerò.. io sarò sempre con te, Ludwig. Sempre." He bites his lip as the edges of his vision grow dark, the mysterious shade slides closer and closer in as he struggles for a proper breath. The last thing he sees is the desperate look on Ludwig's face, his final sensation wet tears on his cheeks.

Ti amo, Ludwig..

But it was all for naught


End file.
